


Devilish

by Boywife



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Club Owner Sebastian, Homelessness, M/M, Prostitution, Sex Club, Trans Female Character, Trans Lizzy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-31 07:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boywife/pseuds/Boywife
Summary: After he aged out of the foster care system just months ago, Ciel had hit rock bottom, or what anyone else would consider rock bottom if they didn’t know what he had been like just after his parents died. Rock bottom meant losing your will to go on. All Ciel had was the will to go on. It was all he ever had, really.A mysterious man clad in black gives 18-year-old orphan Ciel Phantomhive an offer he can't refuse."Welcome to theDevilishfamily, Ciel Phantomhive. May all your dreams and desires come true.”





	1. Fairy Tales

It was a chilly, particularly stormy March. On nights like these, when the rain was heavy and the wind moaned and rattled the house, Ciel’s mother would often stay in the bedroom with him, reading him stories until the fear withdrew and sleep overtook him instead. Other times, he’d tiptoe through the halls and into his parents bedroom, where they’d welcome him under the duvet with open arms, snuggling up beside him until the scary noises faded away into sweet dreams. That was how things used to be, when their small but loving family of three was still a family of three. 

Ciel could still remember the fairy tales his mother would tell him, stories of knights and princesses, witches and curses, struggles and the happily-ever-afters that were earned because the characters overcame them. He could remember hearing his father’s low voice through his own half-slumber, coming to bid his beloved wife and son goodnight. He could remember many things about his family, vivid as if they’d happened only the day before.

It was just Ciel now, as it had been for eight years. For Ciel, however, it hardly seemed like eight days. People always said that the curse of having a good memory was that you remembered all the bad times, no matter how much you tried to forget. They were right about that. They just didn’t realize how much of a curse it was to remember the good times too.

The man beside him was asleep, and Ciel found himself vaguely wondering how he could snore so soundly with the roaring wind and booming thunder outside. The hotel he’d lead them to was one of the worst Ciel had ever visited, right from the flickering, crooked sign to the faded and peeling green wallpaper that surrounded them. The whole situation was nauseating to Ciel, but it was becoming less so the more that he did it. Whoring himself out wasn’t something Ciel _wanted_ to do, of course, but anything was better than sleeping on the street. At least this way Ciel could earn some cash, as well as a bed for the night — which would be useful if he was able to catch a wink. Which didn’t seem to be something that was going to happen that night.

Taking one last, mildly disgusted look at the snoring man and the shitty hotel room he’d brought them to, Ciel slipped on his jacket and left.

❧

It was probably a better idea to have stayed indoors, and Ciel knew this. He wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted him to leave; it wasn’t the first time he’d slept in an ugly room with an ugly man just to have a roof over his head and money in his pockets. Yet for some reason, on that night, Ciel couldn’t bring himself to stay in that room for a moment longer.

Walking along the streets, Ciel spotted a 24-hour convenience store a couple blocks down. The bored teenage cashier didn’t even bat an eyelid at Ciel when he placed a pack of cigarettes on the counter, ringing him up quickly, then returning to whatever game she was playing on her phone. Ciel walked to a nearby bus shelter, barely acknowledging the tall man who stood there already as he slipped a cigarette between his teeth, fishing around in his pocket for his lighter. 

“That’s a bad habit for someone so young,” came a voice from beside him. It was low, smooth, educated, and though Ciel wished to ignore it, he found himself looking at its owner in spite of himself. It was the tall man who’d been waiting inside the shelter before Ciel came, dressed in all black, from his shoes, to his coat, to his leather gloves. He spoke again when Ciel’s eyes met his. “Are you old enough to be smoking that?”

Ciel frowned. It wasn’t that he was unused to attention from nosy strangers (his conventionally attractive appearance saw to that), nor was he unused to people assuming he was younger than he was. There was just something about this man that seemed ... off. Dangerous almost, especially on this deserted street at two in the morning. The man’s gentle smile and handsome face did nothing to calm the unrest building in Ciel, and he stiffened.

“You’ll have to pardon me if that was a bit brass to say, I just don’t enjoy seeing teenagers being led so astray. I’m a smoker myself you see, and I wish someone had stopped me when I was young. It really is such a terrible, unhealthy habit.” He paused. “Expensive, too.”

This irked Ciel. The stranger hadn’t given him an obvious once-over, but it didn’t take much to notice his worn coat and shoes, and whether or not it had been meant as a comment on it, Ciel was too sleep-deprived to care.

“You’ll have to pardon _me,_ sir, but I hardly think that’s any of your business. It’s not a habit I partake in often, and I wouldn’t have been able to buy these cigarettes if I wasn’t of age. And even if I was a sixteen-year-old chainsmoker, it would still be strange to confront me about it at two in the morning in this neighbourhood. You do realize you are a highly suspicious character.”

The man laughed at this. “Am I now? I apologize, I really didn’t mean to frighten or offend. Just simple advice from a well-meaning adult.”

“Unwanted advice. And you don’t frighten me. I was merely pointing out that you seem suspicious.”

A chuckle. “Fair enough.”

There was quiet between them then, the sounds of the storm taking over with occasional interludes by the odd passing car. Ciel thought about leaving, but the rain was only getting heavier and it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. He hoped the man’s bus would come soon, but the area they were in was quite out of the way and it was very early in the morning; with the storm entered into the equation it would probably be awhile before the next one stopped by.

The man cleared his throat. “I hope it wouldn’t be terribly rude of me to trouble you for a cigarette? Watching you with yours has sparked quite the craving.”

Ciel considered it. He could just refuse, it wasn’t as if he was ever going to see this man again and they’d just had ... well not quite an argument, but not a pleasant conversation. Unpleasant for Ciel anyway, the man, on the other hand, didn’t seem even slightly bothered by Ciel’s sharp tongue. He thought about it for a moment before sighing and taking the cigarette pack out of his pocket.

“Here,” he said, handing the man the box, watching him tap out a cigarette with practiced ease before he gave the box back to Ciel.

“Do you mind?”

“What?”

“A light. If it’s not a bother.”

Ciel pulled out his lighter, and the man leaned down as Ciel flicked it on and held it to his cigarette. Now that he was so close to Ciel’s face, the boy took in his appearance more clearly: the refined nose, slender jaw, raven-black hair that draped his face like silk curtains. The strangest burgundy eyes.

“Thank you,” the man said, even lower and smoother than before as he stood up straight and took a drag. Ciel didn’t reply, and there was silence between them once again. Still no sign of the bus.

Minutes passed.

“So, how much does it cost for a night?”

Ciel startled. “Excuse me?”

“That is what you do, isn’t it? I deeply apologize if I’ve made an incorrect assumption.”

Ciel narrowed his eyes, turning to glare at the stranger. “You ask me something like that, and have the nerve to carry yourself like a gentleman. I find your lack of shame appalling,” he huffed, turning to the exit. “I’m leaving now.” 

“Oh, I do have shame, when necessary,” the man replied, “I just happen to know that right now it isn’t. I know exactly what kind of situation you’re in, and I mean no harm to you. I simply wanted to offer you an opportunity.”

Ciel couldn’t hear any smug superiority in his voice, but he knew it was there. The fact that this stranger was so good at hiding it angered him more. He whipped around to face the man.

“And tell me, how exactly would you know _anything_ about my situation, and why exactly would you care? Answer quickly, because I’m leaving in approximately ten seconds whether you say anything or not.”

The man had a placid, unreadable smile on his face. “To answer your first question: experience. To answer your second question: well I doubt “the goodness of my heart” will be an acceptable answer for you, so I’ll say “the goodness of my business.” Faces like yours are always useful to have around in my line of work.”

“And what exactly is your _‘line of work?’”_

That same unreadable smile again. “Why don’t you come and find out?” he replied, holding out a business card that Ciel hadn’t even noticed him taking out. “It’s not terribly different from your current position, I promise you. Only it pays better.”

Ciel stared at the card held between the man’s black-gloved fingers, conflicted. This man was incredibly suspicious, incredibly rude (in the most infuriatingly polite way possible), and his offer was almost certainly too good to be true. Ciel wasn’t going to be whisked away to a better life by a handsome man he met by chance, things like that just didn’t _happen_ in the real world. It would go against all better judgement to accept, but in spite of everything screaming at him to run away _now,_ Ciel felt drawn to the card being held out to him. Even if he wasn’t depressed, Ciel was still miserable living the life he had now. Even if he had his pride (too much of it, as always), Ciel knew he couldn’t survive doing what he was doing forever. It had only been a few months and he was already exhausted, and he really wasn’t making enough money the way things were. Besides, taking the card didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t an agreement. It was just a consideration. He didn’t have to go through with it if this man’s “business” turned out to be as sketchy as its owner.

Reluctantly, Ciel reached forward and took the card from the man. “I’ll consider your offer, but I’m not promising anything. I’ll decide if it’s really better than what I’m doing now.”

“Of course,” replied the stranger, as if he’d never implied anything otherwise. “I look forward to your call, if it comes. Thank you again for the cigarette.” That smile again. It made Ciel feel ill.

Ciel turned away then, exiting the bus shelter and stepping out into the rain. It had slowed a bit while they were conversing and Ciel was glad for it, though the wind was still harsh and aggressive. Once he was a ways away from the bus stop, Ciel stopped to read the card.

The paper was black like the man’s hair and clothing, with silver writing engraved into it. The name of the business was written in script, _Devilish_ it said, with the H ending in a loopy pointed tail that underlined the word. Beneath that was a name, _Sebastian Michaelis,_ and under that, a phone number and email address. Around everything was a fancy, but simple silver border. Ciel noted that there was no address for a physical building or website listed. The whole aesthetic of the card seemed to match the man who owned it, _Sebastian Michaelis,_ perfectly — elegant on the surface, but slightly sinister if one was looking for it.

After staring at it for a moment, Ciel pocketed the card again. Whether or not he was going to call Sebastian, Ciel wasn’t sure, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t likely. He’d definitely wait awhile before doing it though — if there was one thing Ciel learned from his difficult life, it was that it was never good to let a man like that know when you’re eager. It was never good at all.

❧

After a few weeks of careful consideration, Ciel finally decided to call Sebastian. Slipping into a phone booth, he carefully dialled the number on Sebastian’s business card, fidgeting slightly with the cord as he waited. He was surprised to hear that the voice that answered was not Sebastian’s: younger, not quite as low, but just as smooth. 

“Good afternoon, _Devilish,_ Ryan speaking. What do you desire?”

_Do they make them say that?_ Ciel wondered, cringing a little. “Yes, hello, my name is—” Ciel paused as he remembered he hadn’t _given_ Sebastian a name when they’d met. Ugh. “My name is Ciel Phantomhive,” he continued, “I met Sebastian Michaelis a few weeks ago and he gave me his card. He said he had a job opportunity for me.”

“Oh yes, we were expecting your call,” Ryan replied, “Would you like to set a time for your interview?”

_Interview?_ This was more official than Ciel had expected. With how the man — _Sebastian,_ had approached him, he thought he’d be calling him directly to work in some second or third-rate sex club. Instead, here he was, talking to a secretary and booking an appointment to see the man.

“Yes, thank you,” Ciel said, hoping none of his surprise or confusion unwittingly slipped into his voice. If it did, the secretary didn’t acknowledge it.

“There was a last minute cancellation, so he actually has an opening today at 3 pm. Are you available?”

_Well, I am homeless, jobless, and friendless, so yes, I would just about say so,_ Ciel thought to himself. “Yes, I am,” he answered instead.

Ryan gave him the address of a Starbucks downtown and Ciel decided not to ask why Sebastian couldn’t meet him at his business location (it was much safer to meet someone like that in a public place, anyway). When Ciel arrived he found Sebastian sitting at a small table in the corner of the cafe, dressed once again in all black — snug black turtleneck, black trousers, black coat slung over the back of his chair. As he approached, Ciel noticed black fingernails tapping away at his cellphone, which itself was a surprising shade of maroon. 

Sebastian set down his phone and smiled at Ciel as he took the seat across from him.

“I’m glad you decided to call,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you properly, Ciel Phantomhive.”

_You knew I would,_ Ciel thought to himself, but held his tongue. This man was to be his employer after all, and Ciel could be polite when he needed to be.

“Thank you for the offer, though I still don’t know what it entails. Or why you chose to meet me at a Starbucks of all places.” Perhaps not _so_ polite.

Sebastian’s smile didn’t falter. “You’ll get to know our location once you sign some documents. Please don’t think of this as a formal interview, I want to get to know you a bit better, that’s all. I also thought you’d be more comfortable meeting me in a place like this, after you voiced your suspicions about me the first time we met.”

That was fair, Ciel had to admit — thoughtful, almost, if Ciel didn’t know Sebastian was trying to gain his trust for his own motives. 

“Before you ‘get to know me better,’ Ciel replied, “I’d like to learn a bit more about this job you’re offering me.”

“Yes, of course.” Sebastian took a sip of his coffee before he spoke, voice casual, but lowered. “I own a small club for select patrons. Invite only. You’d be serving drinks, chatting with patrons, and of course, doing your usual work if someone liked you enough. Which I’m sure they will. I already know a few who would consider you ... their type.”

_Jailbait,_ Ciel thought to himself with mild disgust. Ciel knew he looked young for his age, maybe about fifteen or sixteen, seventeen if he was pushing it. 

“You’ve spoken to me, you can’t possibly think I’m the type to enjoy kissing arse all night, serving people and giggling as some disgusting bastard with too much time and far too much money fondles me under the table.”

“You’re right. I don’t think that at all. Believe it or not, some of these men like it when their prey puts up a fight.”

“That’s revolting.”

“That’s how it is. I want you to work for me, but I won’t lie to you.”

Ciel stared at Sebastian, trying to dismantle the man with his eyes, to figure him out. Sebastian took another sip of his coffee. The other people in the Starbucks chattered on.

Finally Ciel spoke, voicing the real question that had been on his mind since he last spoke to Sebastian.

“How much ... will you be paying me?”

Sebastian smiled, a glint in his eyes as he leaned in to whisper the amount in Ciel’s ear. Ciel’s face was poker-still, but he had to stop his eyes from widening.

“And that’s not including tips.” The smugness that Sebastian had previously expertly concealed leaked into his voice then, just the barest trace of it that was probably imperceptible to anyone but Ciel. In that moment Ciel knew he hated this man, but with the situation Ciel was currently in, he had everything to gain and nothing to lose. It would take more than one Sebastian Michaelis to wound his pride.

“Fine,” Ciel said, “I’ll do it.”

“Ah, but we haven’t gotten to the interview portion yet. I still need to get to know you better before I decide to hire you.”

_Of course._ “Ask away.”

“How did you get into your current line of work?”

Ciel’s jaw clenched as he debated the pros and cons of telling this complete stranger his life story. It wasn’t something Ciel liked to talk about, and though he could sense that Sebastian wasn’t the type to pity others, he still didn’t like the idea of being vulnerable in front of him. Ultimately, he didn’t really have a choice if he wanted this job, however.

“My parents died when I was young, so I grew up in various foster homes. I aged out of the system just a few months ago, and then I was on my own. As it turns out, there isn’t a lot of support for adult orphans.” Ciel observed Sebastian carefully, gauging his reaction. The look on his face wasn’t something Ciel was used to; indeed there was no pity that he could see, but not any smugness either. Sebastian was just listening intently. He continued. “Late one evening, a man offered to get me a hotel room for the night if I slept with him. Then it just became a habit, I suppose. Put food on the figurative table.” Ciel leaned back in his chair, signalling he was done.

Sebastian said nothing, and instead took a long, slow sip of his coffee. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Ciel. It’s never easy to lose your parents, but especially so at such a young age.”

It was something that had been said to him many times before, and truthfully Ciel was tired of hearing it, but at the very least, Sebastian sounded genuine. 

Ciel shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said, which was a lie. It did matter. It would always matter. But there was nothing Ciel could do about it, no way to change things, no one to blame. So he had to move on. 

The two sat in silence for a moment, before Sebastian cleared his throat.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” he said, standing up and startling Ciel.

“That’s ... enough? What about the rest of the interview?”

“I wanted to get to know you better and I have. You’ve been splendid, and I’d love for you to work for my business.” He smiled, handing Ciel another card. “This is the time and location for our next meeting, where I’ll have you sign some paperwork. You’re welcome to refuse after you read the agreement, of course, but I can promise you there’s nothing unsavoury in it. It’s simply something to give our patrons some peace of mind. Our clientele is very ... private, you see. They don’t want their preferences to be announced without their knowledge and expressed permission.”

So Sebastian either owned a private gay club, or a private BDSM sex dungeon. Ciel was just desperate enough not to care. 

“Understood,” Ciel said, standing up as well. He’d have to read that “paperwork” Sebastian mentioned carefully, in case the man tried to slip anything by him. He could tell from just the sparse interactions he’d had with him so far that Sebastian liked to play games, no matter how honest he pretended to be. Perhaps the game was about how honest he could be while still playing. Either way, this was fine with Ciel — after all, Ciel liked games too.

As they walked toward the Starbucks exit together, Ciel first and Sebastian close behind, Sebastian leaned into Ciel’s ear. His voice was low and breath hot as it ghosted past Ciel’s cheek.

“I know it’s not official, but I’d like to welcome you to the Devilish family, Ciel Phantomhive. _May all your dreams and desires come true.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, thanks for reading my first Kuro fic. I spontaneously started writing this yesterday while trying to write a _different_ Kuro fic that I'd been planning (as you do). I'm new to the fandom (in 2019? Really? I know) so my apologies if this plot has been done a million times before, but even if it has I'd like to think that this will still be worth the read. It's rated Mature for now, but will become Explicit in the future. Because I'm new to writing these characters, I'd love to hear feedback as I upload chapters. Hope you enjoy!


	2. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel's first night on the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Secretly_a_wuss for beta reading!

The building that Ciel walked toward was decidedly _not_ a second-rate club. It was a tall, obsidian-black structure in a prime location, not out of place among the other businesses surrounding it, but somehow still holding a somewhat ominous presence. The line to enter stretched down the block, and as Ciel approached he noted the appearance of those waiting. Men and women dressed to the nines in their best clubbing outfits stood outside, some chatting with friends, or playing on their phones (all the latest models), or crossing their arms and huffing impatiently. Their clothes and looks and attitude all screamed money. Would the bouncer even let Ciel in looking the way he did now? 

Ciel wasn’t surprised to find that the sign of the club was not in fact, the name of Sebastian’s business. In bright neon letters, was instead the name _“Aurore,”_ shining brilliantly in the night, with colours that ebbed and flowed in a way that must’ve been some kind of electrical feat. Ciel put on a face that he hoped said “I am supposed to be here,” and walked up to the bouncer. 

“Hello, my name is Ciel Phantomhive. I’m a new employee hired by Sebastian Michaelis.”

A few of the club-goers near the front of the line laughed and Ciel expected at least an incredulous look from the bouncer, but the man seemed completely unperturbed as he looked Ciel up and down and checked his list. After a moment, he turned around to nod to another man standing next to the door to the club, who opened it for Ciel without a glance in his direction.

“Ask for Finny once you’re inside,” the bouncer said, and Ciel nodded in response before walking through the door.

The music in the club was blaring, the deep bass thumping throughout Ciel’s body as soon as he entered. The place was larger than he’d expected when looking from outside, and crammed packed with gyrating bodies moving to the rhythm of the music. Near the back, up on a platform, a DJ nodded his head to the beat. 

Ciel didn’t like being there at all. Clubbing and parties, drinking and dancing were never quite his scene, and he had never had any interest in changing that. He hoped whatever Sebastian was going to have him do involved less chaos than what the _Aurore_ club presented.

It was hard to see in the dim lighting interspersed with flashing colours, but Ciel spotted a bar to his right. Pointedly ignoring the strange looks he received from the dancers he pushed past, he made his way over to a bartender with blue hair and sharp eyes. 

“Excuse me, I’m looking for someone named Finny?” Ciel said, trying his best to shout over music. 

The bartender nodded, putting down the glass she was wiping and picking up her phone to text someone. When she was done, she nodded her head toward a black door near the back of the room, with a young messy-haired blond boy standing in front of it.

“Thank you,” Ciel said and made his way over to the boy.

“Pardon me, are you Finny?” Ciel asked. The boy perked up when he heard his name.

“Yes! That’s me.” He looked Ciel up and down. “You must be Ciel, right? Mr. Michaelis is waiting for you,” he said, then gave Ciel a sheepish look. “Sorry, for this, I really do believe you are who you say you are, but I’ll need to see some identification. Standard procedure and all.”

“Of course.” Ciel pulled out his wallet, handing Finny his driver’s license, who looked it over carefully before handing it back.

“Alright! That’s all I need. Here you go!” He opened the door just wide enough for Ciel to slip through. “Mr. Michaelis should be on the third floor.”

It was pitch black through the doorway until the door closed behind him, when at once dim red light illuminated his surroundings. He was in a small room with a single black elevator on the opposing wall. The sound of the club behind him was noticeably muted considering how obnoxiously loud it had been, and Ciel absently wondered whether someone outside would be able to hear him scream from within this room. He pressed the elevator’s “up” button as he decided on an answer — no, no they would not.

The button glowed a brilliant red before fading once again as the elevator doors opened. The lights from within the elevator were just as dim, but bright enough that Ciel could recognize himself in the mirrors that lined the three walls. He stepped inside, grimacing at his reflection before pressing the button for the third floor.

❧

The light that greeted him once the doors opened was almost blinding next to the near-darkness Ciel had been in for most of the night. Ciel barely had time to process his surroundings before he was greeted by a magenta-haired girl wearing a black dress and comically large glasses. 

“Ciel Phantomhive, yes? Follow me! We’ll get you all dressed up nice and pretty.”

Ciel frowned at that, but followed the girl to a room with a big mirror on one wall and several racks of clothing organized by size and colour. A tall woman with long, red hair stood with her back facing them, sifting through a rack of red garments.

“Grell! The newbie’s here,” the magenta-haired girl said excitedly.

“Oh!” The woman named Grell turned around, a big beaming smile on her face. “Wonderful. We have just the most darling outfit for you; Bassie chose it himself, you know. I’m quite jealous, lucky boy.”

“Bassie?” Ciel looked at her quizzically.

“Why my dearest Sebastian, of course!” Grell answered, clasping her hands together. “I call him Bassie. We’re quite close, you know.”

_Ah. Well, strange people like strange company, I suppose,_ Ciel thought.

“Come, boy, you can get dressed in one of those if you’re shy,” Grell said, handing Ciel a pile of folded clothing and gesturing to a row of curtained dressing rooms, “But after awhile most of the boys just get ready in front of each other. No such thing as shame in our business.”

She pushed Ciel towards a booth, pulling the curtain closed behind him. Ciel was stunned for a moment, before regaining his composure and unfolding the shirt Grell had given him.

_Oh._ A mesh top. It wasn’t exactly surprising that he’d be expected to wear something like this, but he found himself feeling self conscious now that it was right in front of him. He’d never worn anything so ... revealing before, and had never planned to. Ciel didn’t _hate_ his body, but there were some aspects of it that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Still, it was part of the job, so he’d have to bear with it. 

Under the top was a pair of the shortest high-waisted shorts Ciel had ever seen, and under that — Ciel gulped. _Lingerie._

Ciel peeked out from behind the curtain, voice smaller than he’d ever heard it before.

“Do I have to wear, er ... these undergarments?”

Grell simply laughed at that. “Why of course! Now change quickly, we don’t want to keep Bassie waiting. He’s a very busy man. Besides, I still have to do your hair and makeup and accessorize you.”

Ciel sighed, resigned to his fate, and dressed himself in the clothing Sebastian and Grell had prepared for him. Grell fussed over the details of his outfit, doing his makeup, styling his hair, and trying out different jewellery until she was satisfied. When she was done, she pulled Ciel to face the mirror. “There. Now don’t you look lovely.”

Ciel stared at his reflection, taking in his new appearance. His bangs were still a bit messy, but now in a tousled-on-purpose sort of way, and his dark circles had all but disappeared. His makeup was subdued, in contrast to his outfit: some simple mascara, blush, and lipstick just a shade deeper than his natural lip colour. Grell had replaced his blue studded earrings for a pair of black ones and a matching choker sat around his neck. 

Ciel felt like a different person was staring back at him from his reflection. It was truly impressive what Grell had managed to do with him in such a short amount of time. None of this was Ciel’s style, of course, not even remotely, but he would be lying if he said it looked _bad._

“My, don’t you clean up nicely.” Ciel recognized the voice immediately, and turned to meet it. “I knew I didn’t make a mistake in approaching you.”

Sebastian was wearing a black dress shirt, open at the top so you could see the pale skin of his collarbones. It was tucked into a pair of tight black pants.

“Hello, Mr. Michaelis,” Ciel replied smoothly, “Thank you again for the opportunity.”

“Bassie!” Grell exclaimed, rushing up to Sebastian. “Ciel’s all ready for his little debutante ball. Do try to keep those dogs from biting too much, I know how mad they become over a little fresh meat.” She winked at Ciel then, who held back a grimace.

“Of course, though must I remind you again not to call me that, especially at work?” He sighed, before shooting a willowed smile at Ciel. “Well. Shall we introduce you to everyone?”

“Yes,” Ciel replied, and they walked to the elevator, going down, down to the lowest floor where the _Devilish_ patrons awaited.

❧

The room they stepped into was painted wine red and decorated with all black furniture. That, combined with the dim lighting, made it feel like he’d just entered a vampire’s lair. 

Everywhere Ciel looked there were men laughing and drinking, sitting with or being served by other boys that looked around Ciel’s age and build, dressed very similarly to how Ciel was now. They all seemed to look up when Sebastian entered the room, but quickly went back to what they were doing soon after. 

“You’ll meet all the escorts later, for now I’ll have you shadow under Lizzy,” Sebastian said, low into Ciel’s ear. “The regulars she is currently with are rather easy to handle, so I’ll keep this brief for now. I expect you to treat all patrons with the utmost respect, no matter what they do. If you feel any of their behaviour is unsavoury, I ask that you bring it up with me _privately._ That means no punching, slapping, kicking, throwing drinks, etcetera. Don’t do anything to make a scene. We don’t want to disturb the other guests.” He paused. “Oh, and Ciel?” 

“Yes, Mr. Michaelis?”

“Do try to smile.”

With that, Sebastian lead them to a booth where four men and a young blonde girl sat, laughing.

_A girl?_

“Good evening everyone, I’d just like to introduce a new employee of mine. His name is Ciel and he’ll be shadowing under our dear Lizzy. I’d love for you to give him a _Devilish_ welcome.” Sebastian smiled, host-like, and put a hand on Ciel’s shoulder.

“Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you, Ciel!” Lizzy said, reaching over to take his hands in hers. “I’ll make sure you learn lots from me, and we’ll have loads of fun, too.” 

“Our Lizzy’s a blast,” a man at the booth added, wrapping an arm around her slim shoulders. “She’s only been here a year, but I can’t imagine the place without her.”

Lizzy scooted over in her seat to make room for Ciel, patting the spot next to her invitingly. “These guys are quite friendly,” she whispered in his ear, “In a nice way, I mean. Shouldn’t be too much trouble for your first night.” She smiled warmly.

“What are you two whispering about there?” The man across from them asked in a playful tone, “I hope you aren’t spilling any of my secrets. Those were told to you in confidence, Lizzy.”

“Why of course not, Mr. Aster, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ciel looked around the room while the group at the table continued their conversation. Everybody seemed to be having a good time; the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, men getting a little handsy with their escorts who simply giggled in response. Ciel found the whole situation to be repulsive — would he have to put up a front like the other boys working there, playfully shoving away hands and fingers when he’d rather snap them in two for touching him without permission? Though he supposed just working there would be considered unexpressed permission, according to Sebastian’s rules.

Ciel nearly jumped when something touched his hand from under the table, relaxing a bit when he realized it was just Lizzy and not one of the men they were sitting with. The girl smiled at him as she entwined their fingers (hers manicured and perfectly pink), gripping warm and tight — a comforting gesture, Ciel guessed. It didn’t do much to relax him, but he did feel a bit relieved that his mentor seemed kind and understanding rather than annoyed at being assigned to look after some nobody newbie. It certainly wasn’t the worst situation it could’ve been, and Ciel supposed someone in his position needed to learn to count their blessings.

❧

The night went on and Ciel could feel the discomfort that plagued him slowly leaving his body, probably equivalent to the amount of alcohol entering it. Lizzy and the men at the booth, thankfully, did most of the talking, though they did ask Ciel a few questions about his life, which Ciel answered mostly with lies.

_How old are you?_ Eighteen. (Truth).

_Are you in school?_ Yes. (Lie).

_What are you studying?_ Business. (Lie).

_Are you any good at it?_ Yes. (Truth).

_If you need any help, feel free to ask us._ Thank you, I appreciate it. (Lie).

After a few more hours of conversation, and laughing, and under-the-table groping (not of him, thankfully), the number of people in the room had dwindled and then just like that — the night was over.

Lizzy yawned, stretching her arms above her head as they waited for the lift. Most of the other escorts had left already so it was just the two of them there, along with the cleanup crew. When they reached the dressing room, Lizzy pulled off her wig, revealing shorter hair of a slightly darker blonde. She smiled softly at Ciel as she changed.

“So, how was your first night?” Her words were slightly slurred, eyes bleary. Ciel guessed he was probably in a similar state.

“More tolerable that I expected,” Ciel replied, beginning to wipe makeup off his face. “Nobody groped me.”

Lizzy laughed. “I’m guessing you’re not here because you want to be, then?”

“And you are?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I am, actually.”

“Surely you can’t be happy working at a gay club.” Normally Ciel wouldn’t have made such comments to a stranger who had been nothing but kind and helpful all night, but the alcohol in his system meant his impulse control was, unfortunately, not at peak performance.

The air around Lizzy had shifted, but she didn’t frown, nor did her hands stop moving as she packed her things. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” she replied simply. 

The room was silent then, aside from the sound of shifting fabric and a zipper being closed. 

“I’m sorry,” Ciel said after a moment, “It was wrong of me to make assumptions.”

“It’s okay.” Lizzy looked up from her bag with an understanding smile. “I know it looks a bit strange. But I promise, I really am happy here, and I’m thankful that Mr. Michaelis gave me this opportunity. I honestly don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have this.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed to the door, before stopping and turning to face Ciel again. “Do you live around here? Maybe we can take the bus home together.”

_Ah. Right._ Even if he had a job now, Ciel still didn’t have a place to live yet. Normally he’d just lie in a situation like this, but whether it was alcohol, or guilt, or Lizzy, something made him tell the truth.

“I, er. Don’t have a place to go, at the moment. You can go on ahead.”

Lizzy’s jaw dropped. “You mean you don’t have a _home?_ Not even some dreadful rundown apartment where the taps don’t work half the time?” She grabbed Ciel by the hands. “That won’t do at all. Come stay with me.”

“Er. Sorry?”

“Come stay with me! I know you’re not a deadbeat, you have this job now. You’re just down on your luck and I want to help you. I don’t mind, really.” The awkward energy from earlier had all but evaporated into the air as she beamed, squeezing Ciel into a tight hug. “Oh, I’ve always wanted a roommate. It will be so much fun, I promise!”

Ciel stiffened, surprised at the sudden display of affection from someone he’d just met. When she released him, he sighed. “Sorry, but I don’t take handouts. I’m not going to live with you without paying my share of the rent.”

“Oh, please? You can pay every cent back eventually if you really want to, but I just won’t be able to sleep tonight if you’re not also safe and sound in a warm bed. Just stay the week at least, you can leave if you really hate it.”

Ciel sighed. He was really far too exhausted to argue with anyone right now, and Lizzy did have a point. He could pay back everything later.

“Fine,” he said, and Lizzy squealed and pulled him into another hug. 

“We are going to have. So. Much. Fun.”

And that was how Ciel Phantomhive, eighteen years old, gained a home for the first time in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, just to clear some things up: Lizzy is indeed a trans girl working in a male only sex club in this fic. The reasoning for this is not because I, the author, don't view Lizzy as a woman, but because Lizzy as a character has her own reasons for choosing to work at Devilish (that I will get into in later chapters). I am trans myself and am basing some of these feelings/experiences off of my own feelings/experiences (though in the reverse, as I am transmasculine). I intend to handle this tastefully and realistically, but since I am not a trans woman myself I'd like to ask readers to let me know if I do anything that could be considered disrespectful, etc. Thanks so much!


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